"Well, but it was decided so," said the foreman.

Peter Gerasimovitch began to dispute this, saying that since she

did not take the money it followed naturally that she could not

have had any intention of committing murder.

"But I read the answer before going out," said the foreman,

defending himself, "and nobody objected."

"I had just then gone out of the room," said Peter Gerasimovitch,

turning to Nekhludoff, "and your thoughts must have been

wool-gathering to let the thing pass."

"I never imagined this," Nekhludoff replied.

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"Oh, you didn't?"

"Oh, well, we can get it put right," said Nekhludoff.

"Oh, dear no; it's finished."

Nekhludoff looked at the prisoners. They whose fate was being

decided still sat motionless behind the grating in front of the

soldiers. Maslova was smiling. Another feeling stirred in

Nekhludoff's soul. Up to now, expecting her acquittal and

thinking she would remain in the town, he was uncertain how to

act towards her. Any kind of relations with her would be so very

difficult. But Siberia and penal servitude at once cut off every

possibility of any kind of relations with her. The wounded bird

would stop struggling in the game-bag, and no longer remind him

of its existence.




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